Lucy and the Magic Loom Read online

  Lucy suddenly felt nervous. This entire day had been topsy-turvy. First the package arrived. Then her mother came home in the afternoon. Next, Lucy was unfairly sent to her room, and now she was breaking rules willy-nilly. Quickly and quietly, Lucy crammed the clear packages back into the box and closed the lid.

  Lucy had to think. She decided to go back downstairs to her room and make a new plan.

  Sitting crossed-legged on her bed, Lucy was torn. She didn’t know what to do next. She couldn’t call Alyssa, because her mother had taken her phone. She thought about heading to Abigail’s room over the old coach house and waking her up, but this felt like it should be kept a secret. What if Abigail made her give the loom back to whoever Sallee Ratchford-Jones the Third was.

  The more she thought about it, the more it seemed that what needed to happen next was obvious; kittens were meant to be petted, kites were meant to be flown, roller coasters were meant to be rode upside down in! Obviously, a loom needed to make things! Maybe if Lucy snuck back upstairs and began weaving, using only the magnificent collection of elastic bands in the box, the magic loom would reveal its secret to her. She had to try.

  Taking two stairs at time, Lucy was quickly back in front of the door to her parents’ office. As soon as she crossed the threshold, a gentle humming sound floated toward her from the ebony box. It was happy she was back! How weird was that?

  Her parents’ office had two desks, a wall of six completely full bookcases, and a window seat, much like the one Lucy had in her room. Lucy picked up the ebony box from her mother’s desk and carried it with her to the window seat. She climbed onto the cushions, making herself comfortable, and carefully placed the loom onto the cushion beside her. But when she put it down, the loom seemed to twitch and jerk, almost like an unhappy kitten that doesn’t want to sit in your lap. Lucy picked it up again. The loom had a surprising weight and heft in comparison to the Rainbow Looms Lucy and Alyssa had used last summer to make each other glow-in-the-dark friendship bracelets and rings.

  Lucy concentrated, trying to remember the friendship ring pattern she once knew so well. Suddenly she smiled and turned to the ebony box. Digging past the bands that sparkled like a treasure chest of precious jewels, she found an envelope with the label Practice.

  “That’s exactly what I want to do!” Lucy cheered. “I want to practice! Help me out here, my new golden friend.”

  The loom responded by glowing brightly. Lucy began slowly. She placed one elastic after another onto the loom. Using the hook and her fingers she got her rhythm back—over and under, over and under, over and under. This past summer, it had taken Lucy weeks to master the Rainbow Loom art, but today it was a different experience: Lucy felt as if her fingers had wings, so speedily did they fly back and forth. When the ring was finally complete, Lucy felt exhilarated but exhausted. She thought she’d been working for an hour—but when she looked at the clock on her father’s desk, only a few minutes had passed. It wasn’t even half past two yet!

  Lucy placed the ring she’d just made on her finger. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—it shimmered.

  Suddenly, with a swoosh, the loom lifted Lucy up and off the window seat. It was like a Ouija board, pulling Lucy where it wanted to go with a mind of its own. With one hand, Lucy held tightly to the loom. With the other, she grabbed for the ebony box. The loom tugged Lucy gently across the old wood floor until she was standing directly in front of her father’s bookcase. The loom tapped three times on the fourth shelf where her father kept his collection of rare, antique two hundred-year-old medical texts.

  Zap-zap-BANG!

  Dust exploded from the old moldy textbooks as if they were angry at being disturbed. Lucy sneezed three times fast. The very next second, the loom began to hum and the bookcase began to wobble. Groaning and weaving back and forth, the bookcase made one last moan before it crashed to the ground.

  Lucy was still holding onto the golden loom when she fell unconscious.

  Chapter Three

  Lucy was awake but she kept her eyes tightly closed. Her head ached a wee bit, as did her forehead, her hands, and her knees, as if her whole body had been used to break a fall. Lucy remembered flying through her father’s study and holding on to the magic loom with all the strength she had. She also remembered a humming sound and then, CRASH! BANG! The bookcase had fallen and then … nothing. Just darkness.

  Now she was here—wherever here was. Lucy remembered reading in a library book last summer that if you lost your sense of smell, your final end was fast approaching. Lucy took a long deep breath in through her nose to find out if she could expect to live through the afternoon. Yes! She was immediately enveloped with a deep fragrant scent, part tangerine, part jasmine, part alpine meadow. Feeling reassured and safe at last, Lucy opened her eyes slowly, one at a time—and almost began to cry. Not because her knees hurt, or because she wished Alyssa was with her—although both of those things were one hundred percent true—but because she’d been transported to someplace that was not her parents’ office.

  Lucy was in a field of multicolored peonies—the fragrance was overwhelming. She sat up. The field flowed gently downhill toward a pathway that sparkled as if its pebbles were made of marble and diamonds. The path turned gently and followed a covered bridge over a wide river that flowed with purple water. The path continued on the other side, disappearing into a dark green forest. Far in the distance, hovering over and past the forest trees, was a range of glacier-capped mountains. There the path emerged again, near the top of the second snowcapped mountain peak. Barely visible in the far snowy distance, the path seemed to end at the front door of an emerald green castle. In the late afternoon sunshine, the castle’s turrets shimmered gold against a deep turquoise, calm, cloudless sky.

  Lucy was dumbfounded. Quickly, she scrunched her eyes closed and counted backward from fifty under her breath. She fully expected to see her own bedroom bookcase when her eyes fluttered open. Instead, she saw only mountains and the peony meadow.

  Creak, creak, creak.

  Lucy looked behind her. She saw an old fir tree. It had creepy arm-like branches that twisted around each other before reaching toward the mountains and the emerald castle. The tree was massive, and an entryway the size of her parents’ office door was carved in its base.

  Suddenly Lucy realized the creaking sound was that door beginning to close. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the tree, intending to jam her toe into the doorway to keep the passageway open. She wasn’t fast enough. Just as her toe touched the wood, Lucy heard the lock click into place. She tugged desperately on the misshapen green door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Before she had time to be upset, Lucy was distracted by another sound—the humming song of the magic loom. There, just to the left of the door, it lay hidden in the tree’s shadow. The ebony box had tumbled open. The magic loom had fallen out along with a handful of the clear envelopes. The loom was twitching and turning, as if trying to get her attention.

  “There you are, my new friend. What in the world has happened to us? Where are we?” Lucy gently picked up the magic loom and rocked it in her arms as if it was a kitten. “You poor thing. Did you think I’d forgotten about you? I would never do that.”

  In truth, Lucy had forgotten about the magic loom for a moment—everything was just so inside out and upside down. This afternoon was crazy! Oh, well. There was no need to upset the odd little thing. Obviously, they were going to have to work together. If Alyssa wasn’t around, Lucy and the magic loom needed to get to know each other fast.

  “My favorite color is purple,” Lucy told her new friend. The magic loom glowed in her arms.

  After sitting in the sunshine for a time, breathing in the scent of peonies, and wondering how they were going to get home, Lucy decided to take action.

  “We can sit here all afternoon waiting until it gets dark, or we can follow the path to the castle and see if someone lives there. Maybe they will help us! Are you with me, friend
?” Lucy almost expected the magic loom to reply. Instead, it twitched happily in her hand. “I think that means you agree.” With that, Lucy stood, brushed off her pink sweater, and tucked the loom in its ebony box and under her arm. She took one of her deep steadying breaths and marched off through the peonies toward the marble path.

  “We’ve got nothing to lose except our way!” Lucy shouted into the empty, beautiful distance. It wasn’t a particularly funny thing to say but Lucy laughed anyway, stoking her courage. She knew at once her giddy shout was a mistake. She watched astounded as her shout transformed into something animated and alive and pinged back and forth across the valley. Like a possessed yodel, it seemed to grow louder and louder instead of fading away. It flew across the valley, shaking the snow out off the treetops on the mountains and scaring a herd of remarkable rainbow-hued zebra-like creatures out of the woods and into a meadow. The shout zigged down the valley, followed the path of the purple river, and headed straight for the covered bridge. Lucy watched, speechless and horrified, as her shout smashed into the side of the bridge and came to a loud, sudden halt.

  The world was silent for one moment. Then the floor of the bridge trembled. It heaved. It shuddered. It teetered with one final shaking spasm and fell into the churning, suddenly angry purple water below, doing a spectacular under-over triple axel summersault on the way down.

  “Wow,” said Lucy, amazed. “Alyssa was right, it never pays to shout.”

  Lucy couldn’t stop staring at the scene in front of her. The bridge was gone. How were they going to get across the river now?

  Under her arm, the magic loom glowed. Lucy tapped the box absentmindedly while she focused on coming up with a new plan. She counted backward from twenty-five. Nothing. Lucy’s heart began to pound loudly in her chest—never a good sign! Then she noticed the loom humming inside the box, right before it snapped open and fell from under her arm to the ground.

  Lucy peered closely at it, wishing her magic loom could talk, and that’s when she understood. The loom had worked its way out of the box, nudging along a handful of the clear envelopes—the top end of the gold loom lay just across one of them. Its label read Bridges, Moats, and Turrets.

  “How handy,” Lucy said, leaning down to pick it all up. The magic loom hummed happily in response. The elastics in the envelope felt strangely sturdy to the touch—not like a typical elastic—and they were a reassuring dark brown. Lucy didn’t like the thought of a bridge being a silly-looking yellow or orange. She laughed out loud, “I’m supposed to weave us a bridge, am I?”

  Without waiting for an answer Lucy closed her eyes and imagined the bridge she wanted to create. It was simple-looking, actually. It wasn’t a covered bridge, like the one that had floated away. Instead, it was a small suspension bridge, similar to one Lucy crossed last year on a St. Chester’s school trip to Bristol. It was called the Clifton Suspension Bridge, and it was over the Avon Gorge. Lucy and Alyssa crossed it together without looking down. Lucy remembered the bridge was narrow and compact, with waist-high handrails made of metal but which looked woven, almost like giant braids of hair. Lucy’s eyes popped open. Those cables didn’t look much different than a Rainbow Loom bracelet—they were just bigger!

  Just as she had done earlier in the afternoon when she wove the ring she was still wearing, Lucy closed her eyes and concentrated. She pictured the suspension bridge in her mind’s eye. Lucy reached into the envelope, keeping her eyes shut. As soon as she touched them, the elastics released a strong woodsy scent into the air. As Lucy placed the elastics on the gold loom, the magic loom hummed louder. Her fingers danced over the loom using the hook with new confidence, over and under, under and over, back and forth. They crisscrossed the loom with a will of their own, at lightning speed. The loom was hot now, but Lucy held on. Lucy knew by instinct that if she opened her eyes the spell would be broken—she must be in a trance!

  And then, poof, it was over. The magic loom dropped from Lucy’s fingers and she fell back onto the grass. How much time had passed? She was tired. She counted backward very slowly from ten before she sat up and glanced around.

  The sun was in the same place in the sky. Had time stood still? Perhaps it had. There, right before her eyes, was the suspension bridge she imagined, constructed entirely of Rainbow Loom elastics. On the Internet, Lucy and Alyssa had found pictures and YouTube videos of people making elastic clothes and toys, chairs and tables, but she had never seen anything as intricate and impressive as the suspension bridge that just poured itself out of her imagination, onto the gold loom, and into the strange, mysterious world Lucy found herself in.

  The bridge stretched from one side of the river to the other. It looked responsible and solid, like a favorite uncle. The magic loom—Lucy was beginning to think of it as an odd cross between a best friend and a pet—hummed happily beside her, proud of their shared accomplishment.

  “How about that?” Lucy whispered with excitement, newly afraid to shout. Immediately she was filled with energy and expectation. “Let’s cross at once. I can’t wait to get to the castle.” Lucy picked up the loom and the ebony box. Off they went together across the river to the other side.

  Chapter Four

  The path glittered beneath Lucy’s feet. Here, on the other side of the river, the true splendor of this strange kingdom revealed itself. Overhead, flocks of marvelous red and blue neon-bright birds chattered away to each other in a lilting birdsong. When they noticed Lucy and her ebony box, they swooped down, one after another, to say hello. At first Lucy wanted to duck and hide, but soon she realized the birds were playing with her. Once Lucy relaxed, she held her free arm firmly in front of her, and the strange tiny creatures would alight on her hand or her shoulder, one or two at a time, stealing a free ride. They twittered and chirped joyfully, completely unaware that Lucy didn’t understand anything they were saying.

  As Lucy grew confident and her gait more determined, other creatures popped their heads out from their secret hiding places, from behind bushes and trees to take a good look at the surprise visitor. Lucy could feel their eyes on her—the glowing black eyes of cashmere-soft bright yellow bunnies; the aqua-blue eyes of large, striped chipmunk-like creatures; the shy gaze of deer with bushy pink tails. The creatures followed along behind Lucy, whispering to each other in a lilting, happy, incomprehensible language. Now and then one of the more courageous deer would nudge a nose into the pocket of her pink sweater, looking for a treat. This made Lucy laugh, the sound of which would startle the poor thing and sending it tripping off down the path in alarm.

  The farther down the path they traveled away from the fir tree and the passage home, the larger the creatures became. It was very strange. Lucy saw a ginger-striped kitten the size of school bus napping alongside a gerbil the size of Lucy’s old toy box! Lucy wondered for a moment if she was shrinking, but when she glanced behind her, the deer and the yellow bunnies had remained the same size. It was as if they had stumbled into a special realm.

  As Lucy wandered along with her new menagerie of animal friends, the magic loom remained silent in its ebony carrying case nestled safely under her arm. Lucy supposed it was saving energy for the next challenge—which turned out to be a very good plan.

  Lucy and the parade of mystical beasts headed steadily uphill toward the dark forest and the mountains. As they marched along, every few minutes Lucy felt the ground tremor. Once, the movement of the earth was so intense, Lucy stumbled and almost lost her balance. The deep shaking sparked unease in the animal ranks and when Lucy looked over her shoulder, she saw that the deer and the chipmunks were, one by one, turning off the path and seeking shelter.

  When it happened for the tenth time, Lucy couldn’t stand it anymore. She stopped in her tracks, carefully found her balance, and listened. From off in the distance behind her—but clearly getting closer and closer—came a strange thunder-like noise. Lucy turned to look behind her just as the earth began to shake again.

  It wasn’t thunder Lucy heard, but
the deep, outlandish purr of a newly awakened giant. The huge kitten had left the gerbil behind and was now chasing a massive monarch butterfly, all the while creating earthquake-like tremors every time she pounced. Lucy clambered up beside the path and dove behind a bush for safety just as the kitten landed exactly where she’d just been standing, sending pebbles flying. The remainder of the animal parade scattered in fear.

  Lucy held tight to the base of the bush with one hand, and to her magic loom with the other. She looked over the top of the bush and watched as the kitten bounced back and forth across the path, causing trees to bend and birds to fly away in terror. Lucy didn’t think the kitten was malevolent; she was simply out of control and didn’t understand how big she was or how much damage she could do with one flip of her ginger tail.

  Lucy had an idea. She needed to distract the kitten and send it prancing off in another direction. If Lucy could accomplish that minor miracle, they could be on their way safely.

  The magic loom gently shook, almost like it was laughing—it seemed to know what Lucy was up to. The project Lucy envisioned wasn’t as complex as the bridge, but it was going to be huge. Lucy dug around in the box and found the envelope of elastics she was looking for; its label read Giant Size.

  Lucy sat down behind the bush and again she closed her eyes. She brought to mind an image of the object she wanted to make—a simple ball of string, yes, but this one would be the mother of all balls of string! It was going to be gargantuan, made completely of woven Rainbow Loom elastics, but so big and captivating, it would enchant a giant kitten. The project wouldn’t require a difficult weave pattern, just perseverance and determination. The magic loom glowed, and Lucy set to work.